I'm tired of writing poetry for all the desolate disgraces I see in this world. Homeless hit a peak of 2.5 million children country wide in this land of opportunity. How are you supposed to survive with no role models or daily inspiration? The lessons you cherish are when your next meal arrives, not waiting on your pension. Suspended through the thicket of all this strife, and they are the ones who are grateful day and night. The smallest hospitality does not pass through their ears while comfortable in the heat you're deciding which brand of beer to choose. Intoxicate yourself like your problems will just vanish while a little girl no more than four begs strangers for a sandwich. Then blame the victims for stealing your bits of gold, when all they wanted was a blanket to keep out of the cold.

No se agotará la distancia
Por lo tanto no me quedaré vacío

Es un plan a seguir así sin la prisa
De quien sólo piensa en llegar

Me quedo aquí suave y demorado
Viendo al ritmo elegir cómo hacerse

Me libro de cúspides y aprendo
Que amar es que se esparza el impulso

Renovar al yo entregarse sin sed
Darse por entero hasta ya no ser uno

Pero ni así se agota la distancia
Ni así la luz o el silencio nos adoptan

Yo me quedo aquí sirviéndole al ritmo
Que acaso es más rico diseminar lo vital

La manera en que tu respiración se acelera,
es la única manera que entiendo de amor.

que hijo de puta
suena
amarte
y no encontrarle
sentido
al amor

Ya perdí
como poeta
no sirvo
porque a medias
nada existe
porque ser yo
ser un poco
no vale
no cuenta
no soy

Tiene sangre
en las venas
y el corazón,
tiene huesos,
tiene músculos,
y mucha comida
dentro del estómago,
tiene cerebro
piensa
pero no mucho
tiene sangre
en las venas
pero no tiene
nada
y dije nada
dentro de ella

There are good sounds
and bad sounds.
There are those we want to hear
and those we don't.

There are sounds that make some smile:
     the voice of a person,
     a baby's first cry,
     the melody of a song,
     the chirping of birds in the sky.

There are sounds that make some frown:
     the sound of a gun firing,
     military trumpets at a funeral,
     the sound of a phone ringing
     when it's an unwanted call.

But those that make some frown
also fills others with joy,
and those that make some smile
could be the misery of a young boy.

Sounds can repair,
and sounds can destroy.

I woke up to a shattered broken dream,
where I couldn't even possibly scream
I saw someone peeping through the key hole in the door,
I started moving slowly off the bed towards the cold and prickled floor

I could here the foot steps silently moving,
I thought ''Oh God'' let this be inducing
I closed my eyes and wished for it all to pass,
I started to grip the lost broken glass

I opened my eyes all I could see was the ground
everything about my dream took a twist around
The room started to catch a light
and I swiftly held the glass tight

It felt for a moment like I was enduring hell,
I closed my eyes once again and I could hear the sound of ringing church bells
I was alone for at least I thought....
the way I felt was shocked and utter distraught

I felt a tap on my shoulder from behind
my shoulder started to intertwined
I slowly turned around
and the devil smiled and made no sound

I was amazed in disgust of shocked
he was about to tell me something until he showed me a ticking clock.

As colourful as a rainbow
As free as a bird
As clear as the sky
As light as a feather
As confusing as the weather